Chapter 1

While on a car trip, our car is struck by falling rocks and breaks down on a remote mountain road.

My sister, Renee Olsen, is terrified. We wait three hours before a passing vehicle finally comes.

The driver rolls down the window. "I can only fit three people in my car. How many of you are there?"

My mom, Penny Ziegler, lets out a relieved sigh and smiles. "Great, there are three of us."

My dad, Leonard Olsen, immediately shifts slightly to the side, completely blocking me from view as I cower in the back seat.

They get into the car with Renee and leave.

Ten minutes later, Mom sends me a message. "Renee is in shock. We're bringing her to the hospital for a check-up first. You stay right there with the car and wait for us to pick you up."

I glance at my leg that is bleeding from cuts caused by shattered glass and reply, "Okay."

I wait from day into night until my phone battery dies, yet my parents never return. They never pick up my calls or reply to my messages.

A team conducting geological surveys nearby discovers me, barely conscious. They arrange for a tow truck and rush me to the hospital, as I'm burning up with a fever.

The doctor frowns when he sees my leg. "Why did you wait until now to come in? Young lady, your wound is infected. You need surgery to debride it. Where is your family? Get them here quickly to sign it."

I slowly unclench my stiff fingers and take the surgical consent form. Calmly, I pick up the pen and sign my name. "I can sign it myself. They've already forgotten about me."

Chapter 1

On the third day of my hospital stay, I walked out of the treatment room after having my dressing changed, leaning on a pair of crutches as cold sweat drenched me.

That was when I ran into my parents, Leonard Olsen and Penny Ziegler, and my sister, Renee Olsen. They were behind me and on their way to the medical checkup center.

They flanked Renee, anxious that passersby might bump into her, and froze when they saw me. A hint of astonishment flickered across their faces.

Mom reacted first. She frowned, strode over, and pulled me aside. "Rhea, what are you doing here? Didn't I tell you to stay with the car? Where is it? Honestly, you have no sense of responsibility at all."

People in the corridor heard her loud remarks and turned to look at me.

I steadied myself with the crutches. "Mom, the car has already been towed away. I called you guys, but no one answered, so I sent a message in the group chat."

Mom looked unconvinced. "When did you send it? How come I didn't see it?"

She took out her phone and scrolled down, finally finding a small group chat named "Family of Four".

I happened to be standing where I could see her screen. Next to the group name was a bell with a slash through it. It was the "Mute" icon. The dozen or so messages I had sent—asking for help, begging them to come, and telling them I was already in the hospital—were unread.

Mom looked slightly uncomfortable. She cleared her throat and put her phone away. "Couldn't you have called us a few more times when we didn't pick up? You're a grown adult. How can you be so thoughtless?"

I didn't respond.

Perhaps I looked too pale, for Mom's voice softened as she glanced at the bandage on my leg. "Are you okay?"

I was about to reply when Dad walked over, urging, "Alright, enough. She's in the hospital. What could happen to her? They're about to call Renee's number. Let's go. We can't miss it."

I stepped aside to let them through. "Go be with Renee. I'm going back to my room to get my IV."

Without bothering to wait for their response, I turned around and slowly made my way back.

As I lay in the hospital bed, the image from just moments ago kept replaying in my mind. At the top of Mom's chat list was a group called "Family of Three".

I wasn't in that group.

Meanwhile, the "Family of Four" group that included me had long since been pushed to the bottom by other messages and notifications, with "Mute" turned on.

An hour later, someone pushed the door open. My parents filed in behind the nurse.

"Rhea, here's your hospital bill. Make sure it gets paid on time."

The nurse placed the bill on the bedside table, adjusted my IV drip, and left.

Mom picked it up, and her voice rose. " Why is it so expensive? It's just a minor injury, isn't it? They just wrapped it up. Do they need to charge so much money and prescribe so much medication?"

I sat in silence for a few seconds before explaining, "Mom, the doctor said my wound was infected, so I needed medication to treat it."

Mom clicked her tongue, looking completely unconvinced. "Why do you believe everything the doctor says? He's just trying to scare you so he can charge you more. They prey on idiots like you. You're really troublesome. How can you not figure out something so simple? I'm going to talk to him myself."

After that, she stormed off with the bill.

I wanted to stop her, but as soon as I sat up, I strained my injured leg, and a sharp pain shot through me. My body went limp, and I fell back onto the bed.

Renee instinctively stepped forward, but Dad stopped her.

"Don't go near her. That area is full of bacteria."

Renee looked at me, hesitation in her eyes. "But Dad, there's cold sweat all over Rhea's face, and she looks so pale. Should we get the doctor to check on her?"

Dad's offhand reply overlapped with mine.

"Don't worry about it. She's just hot."

"I have a fever."

Dad's face fell. "You do? Why didn't you tell us sooner? Is it contagious?"

I looked up. "Dad, I already messaged you guys about this."

He waved his hand impatiently. "I don't have time to check my messages. Oh, whatever. Renee, let's go. Your immune system is weak. Don't risk catching anything."

After saying that, Dad shielded Renee and walked away as if they were avoiding something filthy.

When they reached the door, Renee turned around, her gaze landing on my bandaged calf. There was a guilty look in her eyes. Her lips moved, as if she wanted to say something, but in the end, she kept quiet and left.

Silence returned to the room.

I opened the bookmarked website and logged into the field expedition program registration system. The text on the page read, "Preliminary review passed. Proceeding to the second-round review."

Chapter 2

Mom returned shortly after Dad left with Renee. She sat down beside my bed and spoke softly.

"Rhea, I asked the doctor. Your condition isn't serious. You just need some anti-inflammatory medication. We have enough medicine at home.

"Staying in the hospital for a day costs a fortune. It's not easy for us to earn money, and we still have to look after Renee. You've always been sensible. You'll understand, right?"

After saying all that, she handed me the discharge papers and a liability waiver.

"Mom." I lifted my right hand, which was hooked up to the IV. "Help me sign it. I can't use my hand."

Mom gave me a sheepish smile. "You're an adult now. How can I sign for you? It only counts if you sign it yourself."

She slid the agreement toward me and uncapped the pen for me.

I scanned the liability waiver. My eyes lingered for a few seconds on the line stating, "If the patient chooses to leave against medical advice, they assume full responsibility for any resulting consequences."

Mom enrolled Renee and me in after-school classes when we were younger. Even though she kept saying that she treated us equally, the very day she signed us up, she told me how hard things were for our family and how hard she and Dad worked to provide for us.

The next day, I withdrew from the classes on my own.

I didn't realize until much later that all the classes I'd given up had simply been given to Renee instead.

Mom's struggles were always mine to bear.

I said nothing more. I steadied my hand and signed my name and the date in the required column.

Mom whisked the agreement away and let out a sigh of relief. She took a few receipts out of her pocket and placed them on the bedside stand. "Rhea, I've paid the hospital bill. But I'll deduct the money from your monthly allowance. Consider it a lesson. Remember, money doesn't grow on trees."

My monthly allowance was 600 dollars, and my hospital bill was 593 dollars.

I nodded.

After the IV drip finished, I slowly sat up and carefully got out of bed.

There was a wheelchair by the wall. I was about to ask Mom to help me into it, but she had already walked to the doorway and was recording a voice message on her phone.

"Renee, what do you feel like having for dinner? Steak? Pasta? Salad? Do you want to try the new barbecue restaurant downtown?"

I reached out, grabbed the pair of crutches nearby, and tucked them under my arms. Since I couldn't put any weight on my injured leg, I had to keep it slightly bent.

I slowly followed behind Mom.

By the time I reached the hospital entrance, Mom was gone. I thought she had gone to the restroom, so I waited for her. But half an hour passed, and she was still nowhere to be found.

I called her.

It was only then that she seemed to remember me. "Oh, I forgot to tell you. We brought Renee out for barbecue."

I heard Renee ask, "Why don't we ask Rhea to join us?"

Mom replied, "No need. She's not a fan of barbecue."

I clutched my phone, relieved I hadn't immediately said yes. "Yeah, I don't like it."

"Alright, go home by yourself." Mom's voice turned stern. "Wash your clothes when you get back. Don't just throw them in the washing machine. Add disinfectant to prevent cross-contamination.

"You should take a thorough shower and scrub yourself clean, too. Hospitals are so dirty. Make sure you don't bring any germs back to Renee."

I glanced down at my bandaged leg and swallowed the words I was about to say—"I can't get the wound wet."

Then I walked to the roadside and hailed a cab.

Chapter 3

The female cab driver insisted on walking me up to the apartment when we arrived. "Miss, you can't manage on your own."

She took my arm, walked me all the way to the front door, and only left after she saw me close it.

It wasn't until I went to the bathroom and looked in the mirror that I noticed my eyes had welled up with tears.

"Rhea, you really are pathetic."

I smiled bitterly and lowered my head, wrapping layer after layer of plastic wrap around my injured leg. Only then did I carefully turn on the water.

I stepped out of the shower to find a new message on my phone.

Mom wrote, "Brew a pot of tea and add some sugar. Renee doesn't like it bitter."

Scrolling up, I saw plenty of similar messages.

"Don't forget that Renee's wool sweater needs to be hand-washed."

"Help Renee pick up her package."

"Wash the cherries in the fridge. They are for Renee. Don't go snacking on them."

I replied, "Okay."

Then I opened my Instagram. Mom, Dad, and Renee all posted photos.

The location tag showed a newly opened barbecue restaurant in the city center, known for its imported meat. The average bill was well over 100 dollars per person.

In the photo, Renee sat between Mom and Dad, smiling radiantly. She was wearing a brand-new necklace. Several shopping bags containing a new smartphone, clothes, jewelry, and shoes were crammed onto the empty chair beside her.

My parents' caption read, "To help our darling shake off the shock."

Renee replied with a family-of-three emoji.

A long string of comments from my relatives appeared beneath the posts, but not one of them asked where I was.

To them, I had always been a difficult, twisted, and ungrateful child—and also the one responsible for Renee's poor health. We were twins, but while I had always been strong and healthy, Renee had always been frail and sickly.

Everyone was convinced that I had stolen the nutrients meant for her in the womb, and that I owed her. Even when the doctors repeatedly told them that her health had nothing to do with me, no one believed them. So, she naturally became the one who received all the love.

I went down the list, liking each of their posts.

After I was done brewing the tea, I returned to my room.

It was 9:30 pm when they came home. They chatted and laughed, talking about their dinner, the latest movie release, and their upcoming trip in a few days.

I curled up in bed, like an invisible person no one noticed. It wasn't until the early hours of the morning that I finally drifted off to sleep.

The next morning, I walked out of my room to see Renee sitting on the couch, playing with her new phone. The box was still on the coffee table, so I glanced at it. It was a top-of-the-line model that cost a fortune.

"Rhea." She smiled and handed me her phone. "What do you think of this color? I spent a long time picking it."

I didn't take it, leaning on my crutches. "It looks nice."

She looked at me and hesitantly said, "How about I tell Mom and Dad to get you a new one too? You're still using the one I retired years ago. It probably doesn't work very well now, right?"

I shook my head, clutching my phone with a shattered screen. "No need."

If I was selected for the expedition, I'd barely be able to use a regular cell phone. I'd only have access to a satellite phone, so there was no point in getting a new one.

Besides, my parents wouldn't get me one anyway. They'd just think I didn't need it.

"Rhea, I—" Renee tried to say something, but at the moment, the doorbell rang.

I limped over to open the door and took the anti-inflammatory medication I'd just ordered from the pharmacy.

Mom came out of her bedroom. When she saw the item in my hand, she frowned. "Why are you wasting money again? Didn't I tell you we already have medicine at home? We work hard for the money, and it's certainly not for you to waste like this."

I clenched the box of medicine. "Mom, we only have amoxicillin at home. I'm allergic to penicillin. I can't take that."

"Really?" She froze, trying to recall the memory. Then her expression relaxed. "Oh, you're right. Okay, take care."

When I was nine, Mom gave me an amoxicillin pill when I had a high fever. I quickly developed a severe allergic reaction, breaking out in a rash and having difficulty breathing.

From then on, I knew I could never take it again.

I poured myself a glass of water and took the medication.

I was about to return to my room when Mom told me, "Our relatives are coming over later to visit Renee. You stay inside your room. Don't come out and don't make any sound, okay?"

I glanced at the new email notification on my phone screen. "Okay."

Chapter 4

I closed the door and immediately logged into my email.

"Rhea Olsen, congratulations on passing the assessment and officially becoming a member of the field expedition program. Please report at the designated time and attend the residential training program. Once the training is complete, we'll depart for Faldor."

The anxiety that had been gnawing at me finally went away.

I read through dozens of pages of instructions from beginning to end. After booking my flight, I added a few essentials to my shopping cart. I'd been working part-time since I started college, quietly saving up a fair amount of money.

I had just finished checking out when I heard my aunt, Janet Olsen, say, "Weren't you taking the highway? How did the rocks hit you? That was so dangerous."

Mom sighed. "That was the initial plan, but Rhea insisted on taking the shortcut. You know what she's like. If you don't go along with her, there's no peace."

Silence enveloped the living room for a moment before my relatives erupted in anger.

"It's that troublemaker again!"

"Wasn't it enough that she harmed Renee? Now she wants to harm you and Leonard as well?"

"That girl is nothing but a jinx. What the hell is she trying to do?"

One nasty remark after another came pouring out of their mouths.

I felt as though I had fallen into an icy pit, even though the sun was blazing brightly outside.

"Oh, it's fine." Only when my relatives' voices began to fade did Mom casually smooth things over. "She's already paid the price. She injured her leg. Rhea takes things too personally. As her parents, there's only so much we can say."

Renee chimed in, "Rhea didn't mean it. Please don't criticize her anymore."

Our relatives scoffed upon hearing her words.

Janet spoke the loudest, as if she wanted me to hear her. "Renee, you're just too kind-hearted. Why are you still speaking up for her? Just think about it. If she hadn't insisted on taking that route, would any of this have happened? Luckily, you're all safe. Otherwise, she could never have made up for it."

I sat blankly in my room, unable to move. It wasn't until I heard them leave that I slowly regained my senses.

A little while later, Renee pushed the door open, carrying a plate of cut fruit. The pale yellow apple chunks were already turning brown at the edges, enough to make anyone lose their appetite.

I stared at her. We were sisters, with almost identical faces. However, there was always a faint feeling of distance and unfamiliarity when we were together.

Renee placed the plate on the table. "Rhea, I didn't expect Mom to say that."

I said nothing.

She clenched her fist and lowered her head. "We're a family. Don't blame our parents or me."

With that, she hurried away as if trying to escape something.

Right after she left, Mom walked in, her brows furrowed. She demanded, "What did you tell Renee? Why does she look upset?"

A tightness rose in my chest, and I couldn't help but ask, "What about me? Mom, why did you pin that on me? Renee was the one who insisted on taking that route!"

Mom froze, clearly not expecting me, who was usually obedient, to talk back suddenly. Her eyes flickered, and she snapped, "Rhea! What the hell are you talking about? So what if I said it was you?

"You're sisters. What's wrong with helping Renee out a little? You've always been shameless. A few harsh words aren't going to hurt you. You owe her anyway."

My lack of reaction only fueled her anger. She slapped me hard across the face and warned me, "Listen to me—don't you dare say anything out of line in front of our relatives. Do you hear me?"

I staggered back several steps as a sharp, searing pain shot through my leg, and I collapsed onto the floor. My cheek burned too.

The fruit platter fell to the floor as well, sending apple pieces rolling everywhere.

Mom slammed the door and left.

I lay on the floor, slowly picking up the apples and throwing them into the trash can.

…

I became even more careful around the house for the next few days, quietly packing up my things. With my medication and dressings changed on schedule, my leg had mostly healed by then.

The day I left coincided with their trip to Yovon. Just before leaving, Mom suddenly raised her hand.

I instinctively flinched and dodged her hand.

She froze, her expression darkening. "I just slapped you once. Are you still holding a grudge against me?"

I shook my head calmly and said, "No. Have a safe trip."

I stepped back to let them through.

Mom glared at me, led Renee out, and slammed the door shut.

I grabbed my suitcase and headed toward the airport too.

As luck would have it, our gates were close to each other. Renee stood between Mom and Dad, chatting and laughing with them while waiting in the first-class boarding line. I stood a distance away, alone at the end of the long economy-class line.

I checked in on my own and made it through security. As I walked toward my gate, I thought I heard someone call my name.

I didn't look back. I simply walked down the jet bridge and boarded a flight headed in the opposite direction from theirs.